


I'll always want you

by viflow



Series: Lost on you [2]
Category: Supernatural, destiel - Fandom
Genre: 13x05 Coda, Canon diversion: 13x05, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 13:57:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12706389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viflow/pseuds/viflow
Summary: The contrast between the urgency in Dean’s head, in his heart and the deliberate, controlled movements of his hands on the wheel  surprises even himself.





	I'll always want you

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't resist to fill in the gaps the directors left for us.

“Hello, Dean,”

Time, the fucking world, everything stopped down while his heart was speeding up.  

Either way, he'd enough brain cells left to glance at Sam and check, that he hasn’t fallen into a sleep during driving.

Because, it can’t be true. Because, he’s Dean, fucking Winchester, which means, there’s no chance for such happiness. But that beautiful, grumpy, slightly irritated voice in his phone is insistent.

“Dean, did you hear what I’ve said? I’ve no more change left--”

There is a loud click just when Sam asks, “ What?!” and everything inside Dean trembles, the phone dropping from his hand.

His heart racing like a wild horse, his hands tightening, tightening around the wheel.

There’s time enough to hear Sam’s voice, utterly changed, a soft, worried gasp of sound that’s his name, “Dean. Who is it?”

His brain still existing in an euphoric stop while he breathes. “Cas. It’s Cas.”

The gasping breath of his brother should’ve been enough to kick him back to his senses, but his mind’s still reeling with hope, confusion and unspeakable happiness.

‘’Dean, stop the car. _Dean_ ,’’ Sam’s voice, loud and firm and warning, breaks through the haze, and Dean blinks as he comes back into the world again, and pulls over to a side way.

He turns his head and meets Sam’s eyes with a questioning brow.

Sam’s eyes are huge and soft, his expression worried and sympathetic as he glances pointedly down at Dean’s hands.

Which is when Dean realizes his hands are frozen into place on the wheel, gripping it with white-knuckled fists, and he’s breathing like he’s run a bloody marathon, in harsh, broken gasps.

He unwinds his fingers, and boneless, slumps over his arms on the wheel and sucks in a huge breath. He feels Sam’s eyes on him, and tries desperately to control the shaking that is coursing through his body.

’’Dean -" Sam says soft and gentle, then he hesitates, and Dean freezes because nothing good ever comes of that tone. There is tension already; awkward and enough. ‘’Um, are you sure it’s Cas?’’ Sam asks, and there’s that careful tone again he’s come to use around him in the last few weeks.

‘’Yeah, It’s him,’’ Dean answers, voice muffled by his arm.

‘’But how?’’

‘’Don’t know.’’ Dean grinds out, throat suddenly tight. ‘’Don’t care. Don’t give a toss.’’ And though his face is still hidden between his arms, he can feel the glance Sam shoots at him for that.

But he really doesn’t care anymore about the how, because he is at a point where he’s given up everything, given up his fight to control the constant nagging and ache in his chest. Given up to try and fill the gaping hole in his chest with hunts and mindless fucks. Because he’s at a point where it’s impossible to do and feel anything but the yearning and want for Cas. Because it never stops or lessens and he would do anything, accept everything, forgive everything for everybody if _only_ … _Oh God, please, please it must be true…he needs this to be true..._

‘’Maybe it was Billie or Chuck-‘’ he shrugs, ‘’or even Jack-‘’ it spills out of him when he collects himself enough to answer.

’’But we saw his wings on the--’’ Sam starts with disbelieve.

Dean jerks his head up at that and his eyes fly to Sam across the seat. “I know that, God,’’ he bursts out, cutting Sam off. “You don’t need to fucking tell me that, Sam. I’ve seen it. And you have no clue how much it took me to stand up from that ground and carry on with my fucking life.’’

Sam goes pale and Dean's hearing the anger in his own voice so he stops, struggling for control. Because the image of Cas falling down lifeless to the ground, the shadow of his wings burned into the ground is not going to fade anytime soon. And it tightens his chest and takes away his breath, and he presses the heel of his palm over his chest as his grief clutching his heart in a vice grip again.

“I’m sorry. That was –’’ Sam starts and looks away. He draws a hand over his face, through his hair, and when he lifts his head again, the look he sends Dean is both apologetic and sad. ’’I’m really sorry, I shouldn’t have sounded so…”

‘’Yeah,‘’ Dean grinds out, throat still tight, ‘’I get that,’’ and he even manages to give Sam an odd grin which speaks about more self-control than he’d thought himself capable of.

Sam falls back to lean against the window. He swallows, keeps his eyes locked on Dean’s face, watchful, knowing, and takes a deep breath.

‘’Look man, I just mean-- I know how much Cas means to you, and I know how devastated you were… you are by grief. I’ve seen what it does to you, what it cost you each time he-- he died... to come back from that.’’

Dean flinches and there is a cold in the bottom of his stomach. Of course, he should have known Sam could see that. Not that he was too subtle with his feeling after Amara and Lucifer and all that shit that happened. He knows Sam’s incredibly bright, obviously, and it’s not hard to admit that he is far smarter than he is, but it never bothered Dean in the least. It’s a weird time to discover that actually, he’s very proud of his brother. And Dean also knows that Sam has an exceptional talent for insights, there’s just too much compassion and heart in that giant body of his not to notice things on instinct. But somehow, Dean still gets lulled into forgetting that he isn’t his baby brother anymore, and keeps falling for that mild, wide-eyed puppy thing Sam does. He would have been an excellent lawyer- and something about that thought makes Dean’s heart hurt with guilt and regret.

He shakes his head, presses his hands to his eyes and leaves that mess for another day. He lets out a long, slow breath and lets go of that last little bit of resistance within himself. He’d been trying so hard to hold it back, to pretend he hadn’t been completely crashed into pieces. No point pretending now.

He meets Sam’s eyes again. ’’ What do you want me to say?’’ he asks tired.

Sam blinks for a moment then swallows hard again, and he sighs before he begins slowly, uncertain. ‘’ I just don’t want you to get your hopes up high because I’m not sure you’ll be able to pull through again from this... if it’s proves to be…’’ and he doesn’t finish, but Dean gets what he means just fine.

“Don’t,” Dean whispers, shaking his head. “Don’t you – don’t you dare say that.” There is silence inside the car and Dean’s breathing too heavily, heart beating too hard again for that. There’s a wash of white noise in his ears before he chokes out. ’’It’s Cas. I know it’s him.’’

He drags in a deep breath and reaches for control. So, instead of grabbing Sam, he clenches his fists and leans in close.

“Just so we’re clear,” he grinds out, “I don’t give a flying fuck whether it’s a demon, a ghoul or a fucking shape sifter. I’d still go if it meant seeing him one more time. I don’t care about the how. I don’t give a shit about who and why brought him back this time. He could be a mix of all types of the monsters we've ever faced or the new Antichrist, I still would want him. Because we’d find a way to fix that. Because since I lost him and I thought for good this time, there isn't a thing in my life I give a shit about, isn't a fucking thing that makes sense to me, a fucking reason I should get out of bed and get through another fucking day without him in my fucked up life.

Sam is staring, wide-eyed, “Dude, did you just--” he gasps, then chuckles, "Oh... My... God.'' Pushing himself off the window, Sam scrubs his hand through his hair again before he nods. ’’Then it’s settled.’’ he says softly, still with a bemused look and clasps Dean gently on his shoulder. ’’We should go and pick that grumpy, weird Angel up.’’ Then his eyes lighting up with purpose, he asks, ‘’Are you ok to drive or shall I take over?’’

Dean lets out a long, slow breath. "I’m good,’’ and he even manages a wry smile.

“Just so we’re clear,” Sam parrots Dean’s word back with a sudden smugness in his voice and a hint of  mischief in his eyes as he raises a brow, ‘’I’ve _known it_ for some time,’’

‘’What?! ’’

‘’That you are head over heels in love with the guy.’’ And then Sam smiles.

It’s pure reflex. Dean smiles back. ‘’Shut up,’’

 

.................

They’re silent for the rest of the drive, none of them is talking, and it’s a good thing because Dean is not sure he’d be able to manage another word from the trembling and restless vibrancy inside him. But he feels Sam turns his head and keeps stealing little worried, searching glances at him.

The contrast between the urgency in Dean’s head, in his heart and the deliberate, controlled movements of his hands on the wheel surprises even himself. It takes every ounce of his self control not to push harder, but he has already broke every traffic rule and speed limit in the country, and there is so much Baby can take.

But his heart is beating hard through the whole drive as adrenaline firing through his body.

And then the back of that tousled head of dark hair comes into his view, a shape of a familiar tan coat— and something is trying to fight its way out of Dean’s chest.

His heart crawled into his throat, his eyes fixed on the figure before the phone box, he stops the car. He gets out alright and glances at Sam, just for a tiny second, just to make sure he’s not imaging things. But Sam’s eyes are directed at the same point, and there’s the strangest look on Sam's face, a soft look mixed with wide-eyed wonder, confusion and hope.

So, it's true. 

Something swoops and flips dangerously in Dean’s stomach before his eyes fly quickly back to the vision before him. He still has only a back view of that messy dark hair and a pale strip of skin of a neck over the collar, but he can tell by the little jerking movement that the man swallows. And Dean swallows nervously too, and for a second he has to steady himself on the opened door when his knees give just a little out. He grips it, hard, and takes a shaky breath. Then, keeping his eyes locked on the back of that head, he steps forward, one step at a time.

The man turns and Dean freezes on the spot.

Their eyes lock and then, unbelievably, everything fucking stops again.

Even his breathing and his heart.

When it starts to beat again it gives a mighty thud then sets to racing, and Dean takes a long needed, shuddering breath.

He doesn’t smile. There’s nothing remotely light hearten in his eyes as he continues staring at Cas, because for a moment rage sweeps up. He feels inexplicably, oddly furious.

_Fuck him. How dare he keep doing this to him? How many times can he break Dean’s heart?_

His eyes fixed on Cas’ face, unblinking, and as he watches he sees the transition. The tiny smile that touched the corner of Cas’ mouth slips completely down, and those seductive, full lips twitch and quiver with hurt as Cas reads the emotions on Dean’s face. There is a twinge of pain in those too blue, apologetic eyes, a slight hunch of Cas’ shoulders, and Dean realizes his fists are clenched, hard, against his tights. Cas flinches and his lips are parting in a silent whisper of Dean’s name. 

And the thing in Dean’s chest twists sharply, and he hears himself choking out, ’’Cas,’’ then in a quite different voice, “You bastard,”

And then he is striding forward, closing the distance between them before he actually makes a decision to move, ‘'You utter idiot!’ Dean says hotly, coming to a stop before Cas and shakes an accusing finger in Cas' face. '‘Did you – did you think I – what were you thinking, you stupid dumbass? ’’

’’Hello, Dean,’’ Cas says with an odd smile. ’’It’s good to see you too.’’ 

Cas' eyes keep searching Dean’s face for a moment before he takes a long, rather shaky breath, then says in a quiet voice, ’‘I’m sorry.’’ And Dean notices guiltily that Cas' lashes are a little damp before he looks away.

“Serves you right, You son of a Bitch’’ Dean grinds out, throat still tight. ‘’You promised me...’’ Still grappling with his temper, Dean takes a few deep breaths.

When Cas finally glances up, those blue eyes are too wide and too bright and his lips are curled into a slight, hopeful half-smile. “Dean,” he whispers.

And suddenly all the breath seems to have left Dean’s lungs and he watches rather dazedly the way Cas’ throat moves when he swallows… And Dean feels inexplicably dizzy, somehow, and his heart is pounding high in his throat.

It happens so fast, like the moment after the shooting of a bullet ...He’s lunging forward and curling his fingers around the back of Cas’ head, he finds himself crouched over Cas and kissing him gently and loving before he actually realizes what he's doing ...

“Mmmm,” Cas hums against his lips but he lifts his hands to cup the side of Dean’s cheeks and his mouth opening under Dean’s with unmistakable intent. And it prompts Dean to deepen the kiss, to dive into him. It’s deep and slow and utterly erotic, and it drives Dean completely out of his mind, and he's trembling and gasping into the heat of Cas’ mouth.

Shaking, hands gripping the front of Cas’ coat, he’s crowding him into the phone box. Then his arms close around Cas’ back to hold him tightly against his chest. His nose bumps against Cas’ cheek and Dean turns his head and nuzzles... and when Cas’ achingly familiar scent reaches his senses, it relaxes something deep inside, something animal and raw and dangerous.

A hand comes down to stroke over his ribs, and Dean finds that he’s breathing hard, in small, harsh gasps, slumped boneless against Cas, because his knees just gave out as his body transformed into one, long shudder of absolute relief. His emotions are in tatters inside him, adrenaline still coursing through his body, and in the bottom of it all; is the devastation and grief, that’s consumed him almost completely up the last few weeks … _I'_ _ve lost him_.

So, he is soaking up the small, soft, measured strokes of Cas’ hands over his back, his shoulders, the little circles of Cas' thumbs over the back of his neck, gentling him through the emotional aftershocks in a wordless  _it’s alright..._

He opens his mouth against Cas’ neck and lets his tongue taste and hears the hitch in Cas’ breathing. He can feel Cas’ pulse rocket under his lips, as fast and wild as his.

They stay as they are, entwined and breathing shakily for a while. Dean doesn’t care anymore about where they are or who might hear or see them. He doesn’t even try to hide the warm glow that’s growing and spreading in his chest, filling over the terrible emptiness with every passing second Cas is breathing, locked in his arms. He only wants that it never ends.

Everything feels new and yet, achingly familiar, making Dean feel a rare, bone-deep contentment.

Because it's Cas.

And Cas is _everything._

It punches Dean, right in the gut. How could he ever believe he could live without that.

‘’Cas,” Dean chokes out, lifting his head from Cas’ neck, dropping a soft kiss to the hand on his shoulder. ‘’ I love you,’’ he says in a crackly voice, and the hands that were still stroking freeze for a second before slipping and clutching at Dean’s shoulders, holding on almost painfully tight.

Eyes roaming over Cas' face, soft and loving, Dean lifts his hands to skim his fingers over Cas’ cheeks, along the shape of Cas' jaw before he closes them behind his ears. '’God, I love you so fucking much.’’ He says again, voice a bit steadier.

His eyes meet Cas’ and he blinks slowly at the bright, burning look he’s receiving. ‘’I love you too Dean,’’ Cas says, impossibly soft.

One corner of Cas’ mouth curls up and Dean is sooo done...

“I think,” Cas says solemnly, "in the movies this is usually the part where we should kiss now.”

“I suppose it is customary,” Dean allows with a contemplating look, feeling his heart rate begin to speed up.

“Well, we shouldn't break an old tradition then,”

Dean huffs out a laugh at that. Smiling, he whispers, " _You,_ just c'mere", and cups the back of Cas' neck. He curls his fingers in Cas' hair, and he's feeling an unexpected, stupid, giddy kind of euphoria as he leans in to kiss Cas again. And Cas’ hands are hot and perfect as he’s holding Dean's face, and when Dean nips his lips, he makes a noise, so throaty and erotic, Dean wants to push him down onto the ground, slide over him and kiss every inch of that perfect, strong body.

Dean's got no fricking clue how long they stood there, lips and tongues entwined. All he knows is that when Cas pulls back, and he reluctantly forces his eyes open, he's barely able to think, let alone to breath.

Then it hits him.

“ Fuck. Sam,’’ and for the first time since his eyes landed on Cas, he turns to look.

‘’ He walked away the second, I turned around.’’ Cas says with a smile.’’ Have you not realized?’’ He asks with a slight confusion now.

‘’No. I was otherwise occupied.’’ Leaning back, Dean admits with a grin, then noses his way up to Cas' neck and hides a kiss below his ear.

Then he stays where he is, slumped against Cas and lets his insanely hot angel kiss him senseless.

 

 

 


End file.
